George Mirea-Demetrescu

George Mirea-Demetrescu kept a studio above a Bucharest bakery, so the smell of fresh bread often drifted up while he painted. He made his name painting people exactly as they were, no flattery, just the stubborn mole on someone’s cheek or the way light hit a wrinkle at a certain hour. If you’ve ever seen a portrait that feels like it’s still breathing, try his Portrait of a Woman from 1880, she’s looking right at you, like she’s about to ask for the time.